


Allies in Strange Places

by Viwiel



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Buffy as Eve's daughter, Gen, Leviathans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viwiel/pseuds/Viwiel
Summary: The Leviathans are a threat to everyone and the Winchesters and their cockroach tendencies might be the best chance to take them out, she just needed to make the Alphas see that.
Relationships: Alpha Vampire & Buffy Summers
Kudos: 7





	Allies in Strange Places

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in “There Will Be Blood” (SPN 7x22). This scene is set between the Winchester’s talk with the Alpha Vampire and Edgar’s arrival. Some things are slightly different, either because of the fact I wrote it from memory or that they were better for the purposes of this fic.
> 
> Working under the premise that when Willow brought Buffy back she inadvertently fixed her soul together with the piece of monster that makes her slayer and unlocking the part that was Eve's daughter. Don't ask how I came up with this. This was written way back when that episode aired so I really don't recall whatever harebrained thought process that went into this.

She wandered into the dining room once his men had escorted the hunters out.

She didn’t look at him as she went around inspecting the room and the art he had collected there. Her idle hands touched various things as she passed by. Nimble fingers brushed the frames of paintings, the brocade shade of an antique lamp on the side table and some of the backs of the matching chairs around the dark, wooden table, and lastly the side of one of the white, white plate on the table before she stopped.

She stood a few foot from where he was sitting in the head of the dining table, staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room deep in thought.

He didn’t acknowledge her presence in any way and his forefinger kept trailing slow circles around the rim of the wine glass in front of him.

She leaned her backside against the table, looking at the painting on the side wall. It was of a blond-haired girl, maybe around seven or eight years old. On the canvas she was captured in midst of dancing on a field of flowers. The hem of her blue summer dress was high after a whirling movement. Her free floating curls reflected it as well. Judging by the style and the looks of the painting she guessed it was done sometime in the 17th century. It was clearly Baroque, or at least painted by someone drawing their inspiration from that time period.

Absently, she wondered if he had known her, the girl in it – she had a feeling he had, but she didn’t think it important enough to ask him to confirm what she suspected. He had been around for a long, long time, and even if he hadn’t known the girl in the painting he was sure to have known someone just like her somewhere along the years, probably more than just one. He didn’t like to admit it, but essentially, he was a creature of habit, and he had his weaknesses just like everybody else.

Bored with the trail of her thoughts and annoyed by both her own dour musings and the fact that he kept ignoring, her she gave a small huff.

When it didn’t provoke him into saying anything, she stepped her game up a notch. Supporting herself with her hands the table, she pushed her feet off the ground, landing sitting on the table she had been leaning against. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye – still no reaction. Usually this kind of things got her a mildly-toned reprimand.

But if this was how he wanted to play it? Fine.

She started to swing her legs back and forth, and in case that wasn’t enough, she made sure that with every second swing her leg thumped against the leg of the table that was behind her left foot.

Score. His finger paused for just a millisecond, but her sharp eyes still spotted it even from the corner of her eye.

_Swing, **thump** , swing, **thump**_ … It went on for several minutes. While most would not have noticed, she could tell his patience was wearing thin and the movements of his hand became more and more forced.

She was just thinking of ways to take it to the next level when his finger ceased moving.

“Must you?” he asked, placing his hands on the table in front of him. His tone was perfectly even and polite as always.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as if in thought. “Yup,” she popped the P in the most obnoxious manner possible and she nodded resolutely, her legs never stopping their movement.

“You are being insolent on purpose,” his eyes were now fixed on her and his tone was reprimanding. This was a familiar game for the two of them, dating back longer than either cared to remember.

She looked him with her expression and body language challenging, clearly not bothered by the possibility of angering the man, or rather, creature in front of her. Many others would have been quivering with fear just being in the same space with him, never mind outright challenging him.

Silence ruled the room for some time.

They had reached an impasse; he did not want to make her think she could have things her way if she annoyed him enough, and she didn’t want to give him the impression he could get rid of her by just ignoring her presence. They were nearly equal in power and more often than not this was precisely how their interactions tended to go.

In the end, he was the first one to yield. She would have things the way she wanted by any means necessary, and some of those could get ugly – they had witnessed that from time to time. She was truly her mother’s daughter when it came down to it.

He rolled his eyes in a rare outright display of emotion, “ _Fine_ , spit it out.”

Inwardly she smirked at the victory but nothing of it showed on her face, “I think they’re dead on.”

He cocked an eyebrow mockingly but before he had a chance to say anything, she added, “Pun not intended.”

“So, you think the deal is not going to hold?” he searched her eyes for the truth of what she really thought, it was often hard to tell with her.

“It isn’t. Dick and his cronies are full of shit. They never intended to keep their end, and you’re naïve if you actually thought they would,” she stated bluntly with no thought to spearing his feelings or ego.

That’s the way she saw it, and she told it to him straight-out. The Leviathans were doing very good job at eliminating everyone they couldn’t eat or who could at some point pose a threat to them. Well, and then there were the Winchesters who even Dick couldn’t get out of the game. Those two were probably their best chance at taking the Leviathans out, and the sooner she could make him see it, the better.

“Then what would you do? Get into an open war with them? You are the naïve one if you think any of us would be walking out alive if that happens.”

“You think slowly dying out is better?” she demanded to know with a harsh tone and a sneer.

“At least then we have a chance.”

“With Dick poisoning humans’ blood against you? You got no chance in hell. You may have the restraint not to feed on humans but on animals instead – because that will be the only pure blood source if Dickweed gets his will through, and he will – but a newbie’s self-control? Not even close to good enough for that. They’ll be dying out as soon as you turn them.”

She detected the subtle change in his expression and jumped on it, “I’m not telling we should go into an open war, I’m saying we should help the Winchesters. They are the safest bet – if someone can do it, it’s them. They have a history of getting the most unlikely creatures to work with them. I’m quite confident that they’ll have at least Crowley in their corner; he seems to have something close to a soft spot for them. They can manage it – with sheer dumb luck if nothing else,” she smiled sardonically.

He hadn’t said a word during her speech, and was still mulling over the points she had raised when one of his children came in to let him know Edgar had arrived.

“I think it’s best if you’ll leave now. There’s no reason to let them in on your presence,” he told her once the vampire had closed the door behind himself.

She nodded curtly and no further words were exchanged as she slunk out of the room through the garden doors. Even with his hearing there were no sounds besides the unavoidable quiet click of the door closing signaling her departure.


End file.
